'Thank God, you are come! She is yet alive,' said he.
'I did not stop to ask David,' said Mrs Prothero, 'but came straight away.'
She followed Dr Richards to Netta's room, and the feelings of the mother and the daughter may well be imagined, as they thus met after such a separation. Mrs Prothero turned away and wept—then prepared to wait upon her child.
As the long absence of Howel, and his non-arrival day after day, according to promises almost daily made, had caused Netta's extreme prostration of mental as well as physical power; so the presence of her mother appeared to revive and cheer her. Again she had some one near her who loved her. Her mother, whom she had so grievously offended, had come to her in trouble, and she was roused and comforted. The mother-in-law, who had been so anxious to take her from her parents, did not fill their places.
Whilst Mrs Prothero was tenderly nursing her daughter, and gently assuring her of her love and forgiveness, Mrs Griffey Jenkins was discussing her arrival with the various domestics and the nurse, who went into an adjoining room to have her supper, where Mrs Griffey also had hers.
Their conversation was carried on in an under voice, and between sips of gin and water, Mrs Griffey said,—
'You do see, Mrs Gwillim, that if Mrs Howel was to die, my Howels 'ould be seure to be marrying again. He could have anybody.'
'Of course, ma'am—of course.'
'There don't be a lady anywhere as 'ouldn't be proud to be marrying my Howels. Up in London there's my Lady Sinclairs, and a hundred others; and down here there's Miss Nugent, or Miss Gwynne. You do see, Mrs Gwillim, that though Mrs Howels do be very respectable, she 'ouldn't be Mrs Howel Jenkins, Abertewey, only my Howels was too honourable not to be marrying her. I 'ould be sorry after her, but if she was to be taken, why, she couldn't go at a better time. What was you thinking of her by now?'
'Very bad, ma'am, very bad,' said Mrs Gwillim, ominously shaking her head.